Forcibly Removed

There has been a major development here in Olancho recently, some of you may have heard by now. It has created a whirlwind of events over the past 24 hours which will drastically change the remainder of my Peace Corps service. And it went like this:

The six of us volunteers that live in eastern Olancho were gathered in Catacamas for an impromptu meeting yesterday morning. (Me, Julian, Matt, Josh, Ben, Ruth). The meeting was called by JC, our safety and security coordinator and also Bryan whose exact position escapes me right now but he is very high up there and a very good guy to have around.

We spent the first few minutes of the meeting shootin’ the shit and drinking coffee and playing like it was going to be your average S&S meeting that would be followed by a quick round of beers somewhere. But once we got down to it, they told us that the embassy and PC headquarters have been in communication about the deteriorating safety in our area. They listed the past five or six events in recent months that either involved a deadly shooting, bus assault or other gang violence (as if we needed reminding). As the sinking feeling in my stomach grew, they finally just said what we have been dreading for weeks.

They are removing us from Olancho.

We have to pack up all our belongings and leave our sites. For good. We will each move to a different town somewhere else in the country to work for the remainder of our service. And we have 9 days to get out. And we are not allowed to come back seeing as Catacamas is now officially off limits for volunteers.

This news is beyond devastating. I mean, we have been discussing this potential scenario for a while after the last two shoot-outs occurred. But then things settled down and we never heard from JC so we thought we were safe. But today blew that all out of the water.

It was just dumped on us, so final and mandato.

We have no choice in the matter.

There is no room for discussion.

There are not words to express how angry I am. I DON’T WANT TO LEAVE. I just recognized one whole fairly-successful year here in Santa Maria del Real.  ITS NOT FAIR. And I have NEVER EVER NOT EVEN ONCE felt unsafe where I live. And they just march in here to the department where WE live and they tell us to pack what we can and just blindly go where our bosses tell us to go AGAIN. I’ll spend my final year in Honduras getting to know an entirely new community and make new friends and new work partners and waste valuable time trying to figure out where I fit in the health community and how I can be of service, if at all.

Is that something I really have the energy to do?

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Earlier today I drafted a blog post that was more or less an angry rant, bitching about Peace Corps Corporate and how they don’t care about our feelings and the work that I have put into this town and forming relationships with the gente aqui. I pecked out about four solid pages of how they are trying to make us quit for budget reasons* and how I wanna quit and go back to the States because I feel so hopeless and I can’t believe my bosses would think it’s okay to do this to me, to us.

But then I spent three hours in a car with JC and Bryan and we had a good talk. They were giving three of us a lift to the PC office in Teguz for mid-term meds (which I had to reschedule at the last minute since I will now be moving out during the weekend that they originally had me slotted to be in Teguz with the Health team).  We were able to talk more candidly about what is about to go down and how it will affect each of us individually. We talked about policy, statistics, money, and a bunch of other stuff that I am not going to list here. Also more importantly, we discussed where our new sites might be. And, after stopping for some fried chicken along the way, we were able to have a few good laughs at the expense of Hondurans. Which always tends to cheer me up. So then I realized that the Peace Corps directors are not the enemies and not the ones I should be mad at. Nor is Olancho as a whole because, despite its flaws, it’s been my home for over a year. It’s kind of like when you get a brand new puppy and you love it so much but it piddles on the carpet even though you teach it not to. You can’t blame the cuddly puppy for peeing because that’s its natural urge and that’s how it marks its territory. Just like you can’t be mad at a state full of gun-slinging machistos for shooting the daylights out of their enemies. It’s their natural urge and their only method of conflict/resolution.

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So I don’t know who to be disappointed or mad at. My anger is just lingering here. Somewhere in limbo between my thoughts and my fingertips and the “happy face” I feel obligated to put on for all the people I have to face over the next week.

Needless to say, late last night I deleted the bitchy post from earlier and tried to rewrite something with a little less anger dripping from each sentence. Now that I have had more time to process the information I am a little more calm about what lies in front of me. I will, begrudgingly, accept my fate as just another step in this weird adventure.

As far as where I am to go: I don’t know yet. But within the next few days I will find out for sure. The director of the health program (my immediate boss) wants to send me to a particular town in the south of this country. I’m not thrilled by it. It’s even hotter there than it is here and honestly I could think of a dozen other places I’d rather live and work in Honduras. Most of which are either closer to a beach or closer to my boyfriend. Or both.  But my director at least makes it sound like I might have some input in the decision process and we will work together to find a safer town “where I can work and be happy”. Though I’m skeptical. No matter where I go I will still compare it to Real. And I will miss Real. I’m pretty sure I already do.

No one ever said the Peace Corps would be a pleasure cruise. Obviously. But I did not expect to have to say agonizing goodbyes, make long-distance moves and new awkward introductions this many times.

This is not what I signed up for.

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-Sarita

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Oh, and if any of you over-eager readers out there comment on this post and say something like “cheer up Sarah it’s for your own good” I will delete the comment immediately. That’s not going to make me feel better, that’s just going to make me very cross with you. That’s what kind of mood I’m still in. Seriously. Just try me.

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*The budget cuts are changing things like crazy right now. We have confirmation that the incoming class of volunteers planned to arrive this fall will only be 25% of what it usually is. Because of this they had to let go of at least half of the current staff and Spanish teachers who work with trainees. Training policies, operations, health care – it’s all changing and it doesn’t look good.